


We're All a Little F*cked Up

by EmilyWritesStuff



Series: The Wilds College AU [2]
Category: The Wilds (TV 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Business major Fatin, Enemies to Lovers, English major Leah, F/F, Fluff and Smut, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-02-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:06:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29021688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmilyWritesStuff/pseuds/EmilyWritesStuff
Summary: Chapters vary M-E rating (I will mark E rated chapters in comments so they can be skipped) .When Fatin arrived at college she thought she'd thrive with plenty of cute people and parties to lose herself in; just as she liked it, just as she always had. What she didn't plan on was hitting the absolute crater of a pothole that was Leah Rilke, and what she certainly didn't understand was just what the hell feelings were.More gay angst. This is part of a series, however, both stories work as standalone reads, just taking separate perspectives.The characters in this fic are 18-22 years of age, and this obviously is an AU, just using outstanding characters for separate story.
Relationships: Fatin Jadmani & Leah Rilke, Fatin Jadmani/Leah Rilke, Shelby Goodkind/Toni Shalifoe
Series: The Wilds College AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2129055
Comments: 80
Kudos: 317





	1. That Damn Book Girl

**Author's Note:**

> I'm glad to be finally dropping this! I'll be posting a chapter of either this or the other fic in the series daily, switching between the two. As always you can find me at tumblr gay-art-vibes just please ignore the Cher memes.

**Fatin POV**

Of course. Of fucking course it had taken Toni a single day to piss off someone at this school. 

Fatin mindlessly kicked the rotary stand full of textbooks as she glared at the girl next to her, wondering how the fuck the brunette had roped her into saving her ass yet again. Toni fucking Shalifoe had pissed off the people at the book shop of all places. If there was one place you would aim not to entirely shit on it would probably be the people dispensing your curriculum- ass saving- texts.

Yet, the girl thought with her anger and her fist and Fatin was once again stood as the short human shield she was. It was a tired old tradition that was quickly beginning to wear thin the longer their friendship stood. But Fatin had a weak spot and Toni was basically family. Well, maybe not family considering way back they used to be, well, pretty _**great** _friends.

“I can’t believe you dragged my ass here.”

“Remember when I went and got your jacket you love so much back from last night's fuck buddy? You owe me bitch.” She smiled that smug grin that said it all; _she did owe her_.

“Fuck. Fine, but stay cool or I’m leaving. I’m not setting out to piss these people off the first week.”

“Oh fuck no I’m not dealing with this.”

Fatin looked up, mind temporarily stalling as she met eyes of deep blue. Of course, Toni had pissed off the cute one. 

“Well, you’re a ray of fucking sunshine.” Fatin cast a look down at the girl's name tag. Leah. That was an awfully sweet name for someone who was apparently a huge dick. 

“Ian, there’s a customer here for you.” 

She looked exasperated, clearly already done before Fatin had gotten a damn word in. It nagged at her in a way that didn’t sit right in the pit of her stomach. People were normally easily swayed by the girl, she’d simply shoot them the eyes- you know, _the classic fuck me eyes-_ and they would cave. Yet this girl stood fuming, eyes trying to focus anywhere but hers. Fucking straight girls, man.

“I’m on a break.” 

“I didn’t think we got breaks, Ian.” She bit back.

“I’m on a fucking break Leah deal with it yourself.”

“Fuck.” She shot a middle finger to the man, turning to face them again. “Hi. I’m Leah how can I help you today?” She rested her arms on the desk, falsely grinning at the two girls who stood before her. 

_She’s cocky as shit._ Fatin warmed as she looked at her. Leah was cloaked in that eternally cocky pissed of vibe and it was strangely fucking hot. 

“My friend needs her books.”

“They’re not in yet.” Her eyes rolled and fuck could she be any more shitty.

“What do you mean they’re not fucking in yet!” Toni seethed before reeling it in at Fatin’s ‘cut the shit’ glare.

Leah simply rolled her eyes, tired; something that actually pulled at the slight bit of heart Fatin had left. 

“Look they’re not in. They could be another week, or two. We can’t do anything about that. It’s the supplier's fault and teachers are aware and have been told to chose a sharing partner for those unable to attain library copies. Do you have someone to share with?”

Toni grimaced. “I just want my fucking books is all.”

“And you will get them, they’re just a little late.” The girl ran a stressed hand through her hair, combing through her ponytail.

Leaning on the desk, Fatin placed her face not too far from the girl’s. “You’re sure there’s nothing we can do to speed this up.” Her hair twirled around her finger as her voice dropped causing Leah to audibly swallow before shaking herself out of whatever THAT was. 

Fatin sighed as the girl shifted back, clearly too straight to be enticed by the queer gal shit. _Fuck that one normally did the trick_. She tried not to notice the coconut scent of Leah’s shampoo and moved back.

“No there’s nothing I can fucking do.” _God, she is hot_. “And I had to stay late last night to clean up the stupid ass display your friend over here knocked down.” Leah was pissed and Fatin actually felt bad for the girl. “So no, I don’t owe you any favors.” She moved off the desk and went to play with a display. 

Trying to ignore the pang at the loss of her presence, she turned to her friend. “Looks like you’re just gonna have to share gal. Who did you get paired with?”

“Shelby.”

Fatin choked at the revelation. “Oh fuck you’re totally screwed.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Let me know how that one goes for you.” Stuck with the bible basher yikes.

“Oh piss off.”

“Nah you love me.” She prodded Toni’s nose like you would a loved one; laughing as her hand got quickly slapped away.

Fatin met Leah’s gaze and shot her a quick wink before trailing away, feeling the girl’s eyes, hot upon her back. Nah she still had it. 

As she entered the store the second time that day it was to the heated conversation between Leah and a burly frat guy, who Fatin had to admit, was actually kind of hot. 

“Dude you need to chill,”

“No! I need the damn book b,”

“Hey.” Fatin placed a hand on the guy looking him up and down. No one deserved the scorn of an egotistic frat guy. “How about you leave and come back later?” She trailed the hand down his shoulder and patted his chest. Why did the hot ones have to be such asses? Still, he was cute and it was five pm and she was desperate. Reaching into her bag she wrote her phone number on his bicep. “Call me?” 

“S, sure. Yeah girl, I’ll call.”

Slapping his ass as he walked away she returned her gaze to the girl behind the desk and _fuck, those eyes_. 

“I don’t need your help. Or whatever the fuck that was.” Leah grabbed a pen and began writing, ignoring her with every ounce of her being. 

“I need help.” Taking the pen out of her grasp, Fatin placed it back down on the table, getting a raised brow from the girl. 

“I told you earlier, I can’t fucking help your friend. I’m tired as shit,” Leah looked at her as if waiting. 

“Fatin.”

“I’m tired as shit Fatin, half the science and med students have been in bitching the past few days over shortages I can’t fucking control. I’m not some fucking book genie. I am done, and honestly, this job doesn’t pay me enough to find another fuck to give.” She picked up her pen again. 

She could see it in the girl's face; the absolute loss of will to live in that moment. But, Fatin kind of liked the anger, the way she enunciated the ‘ck’ in fuck, and the look she was giving her that just made her want to push the girl up against the wall. She’s probably straight. A silent reminder. 

Quickly plucking the pen from her hands, Fatin held it in the air, dangling it like a carrot. 

“Shit, could you not?” Leah’s eyes were watery now and the guilt hit her like a pang to the chest. “I haven’t had a single damn coffee today, you do not want to fuck with me right now.”

Handing it back, she crossed her arms tightly across her chest as if that would stop her damn heart from doing whatever the living hell it was inside of her. “Look I’m not here for Toni. I need my books, I have my list, if they’re not in, they’re not in. I’m not here to add to your shit okay?”

Taking the list without meeting her eyes, Leah walked around, methodically grabbing the texts she needed for her classes. 

“Entrepreneurship and accounting? Business major ay? Fitting.” 

“What?”

“It’s just you seem like the kind of girl who could get what she wants from rich, corporate men.” Her voice was sarcastic, clearly biting out at her extra-curricular life choices. _What the hell happened to feminism?_

“And women.” She rose a brow, tempting. But whatever Leah thought, showed for only a second if that before she was bored again playing with the stacks. 

“Nice meeting you again Leah.” Grabbing the stack of books she lifted them, trying to balance them under her chin. 

“Hopefully never again. Do you want a bag for those?”

“Hey, sorry I couldn’t help overhearing, do you want a hand with those?” The boy’s smile lit up his face as his eyes traipsed over Fatin and yeah. She could totally do with his help. 

“Sure, thank you.” She smiled at Leah behind the counter, watching as she shook her head in response to the guy's unneeded help.

“Unbelievable.” 

The word was barely audible as Fatin was at the door, but she had heard it. 

Fatin wasn’t entirely sure why, during that time she was having sex with said guy that night, all she could think about was that damn book girl. And as he came, not her, because half the college guys at this school apparently had no idea what a vagina was, she thought about annoyingly piercing blue eyes, coconut shampoo, and the way she said-

“Fuck.” 

“You good?” Fatin pushed the tired guy off of her, men were so lazy after coming. You’d think they’d run a fucking marathon. 

“Yeah.” 

“Awesome.” Fatin slapped his ass, moving to grab her clothing.

“You’re leaving?”

“Obviously.” 

She wasn’t sure why she dreamt about the girl behind that counter either, but she filed away under the things to never acknowledge. Fatin didn’t do feelings.


	2. A Coffee a Day Keeps The Rage Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs that inspired this chapter:  
> Black Coffee by All Saints

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will be mix posting between the two fics now, probably alternating the posts daily so there's a balance. Hydrate, have an awesome day, and stay rad. As always find me on tumblr gay-art-vibes.

**Leah POV:**

Standing in the coffee cart line that morning she was beyond done; the cue of thirty students was a fucking joke. Tapping her watch she glanced at the time, she needed to be at the book department in ten minutes. 

The smell of freshly ground coffee filled her nose, tempting her, she salivated and glared at the doughnuts ahead. Whilst there was one other coffee cart she could use she feared the cat piss juice they served; passing the watered-down, weeks old grounds off as coffee. Lying shits. Then again, at least had she have gone there she would have her damn coffee right now. 

“Book girl.” 

She froze rigid at the voice that sounded right by her ear, ignoring the shiver that ran down her spine. 

“Fuck my life… God damn it.” Arms folded across her chest she pivoted to face the girl. This day had really come to shit on any semblance of hope and happiness she had left at this point; throwing it all to the fire. 

“I knew you’d be happy to see me.” Fatin smiled, nursing a black coffee in her perfectly manicured hands, a pink fur jacket on. _God, she was a freaking walking Barbie doll._

“What the fuck do you want?”

If the girl was taken aback she didn’t show it. “I just wanted to get a coffee jeez. Wrong place wrong time.” 

Leah stared at the coffee, obviously already in her hands. “You have your coffee, leave.”

Rolling her eyes, she brought the coffee to her lips, taking a long swig and gasping as it went down. Unsure if it was the moan or the coffee that turned her on, Leah averted her eyes. God, she hated girls like this. 

Leah was an awkward as shit English major. She greatly preferred conversing around socially awkward normally gay folk like herself. Pulling at her jacket sleeves she tried to figure out if the five minutes remaining would get her to work in time. The girl was now looking at her in a way that made her want to shrink into herself. _God, why do pretty girls do that thing where they just talk to you?_ She stared down at the denim jacket and Dr. Martens she wore feeling suddenly out of place, arms tightening around herself.

“I don’t, I have one coffee. I want another.” The girl's voice broke her from the eternal distraction that was Leah’s mind.

“Well great for you.” Her watch caught her eyes. _Fuck._

“Where are you going?” 

“Some of us have to work.” She called over her shoulder. 

No coffee, No Ian who had called off sick. _Today was going to be abso fucking lutely great._

Her head pressed against the table, eyes drawn shut as she fought the headache that settled in her temple, Leah’s stomach rumbled from the lack of food she groaned. This day seriously needs to be over. 

“You look like shit.”

 _Oh, fuck right off._ “Not the time,” Leah mumbled, head still plastered to the desk, ignoring the voice of the one girl she seriously did not need to see again today. If any Gods existed, they had a super shitty sense of humor.

Something pushed against her arms and the smell hit her. _Coffee_. Head lifting she eyed the girl warily, this was an incredibly shit joke. 

“Not funny.” 

Fatin placed a doughnut by the coffee and turned to walk away.

“What the fuck?”

“It’s an apology.” She called over her shoulder. “Plus I don’t want you dying.” 

Just as suddenly as she had appeared the girl was out the door, and Leah was stuck there eyeing up the coffee and doughnut. This wasn’t even from the stand she’d stood in, it was from the fucking fancy-ass stand the rich kids used; paying an extra ten dollars for a nonexistent cue.

She paused, half reaching, wondering if she had spit in her food as a joke because Fatin seemed like exactly the type to. Stomach growling she realized actually she didn’t fucking care. Food was food, coated in spit or not. 

As the doughnut met her tongue she realized this was really damn good food.

  
The second day she went with the shitty $1.99 cat piss coffee, and honestly? She may have just had water. _Fucking useless shit._

“I’m sorry it’s crap.” 

“It’s fine. Better than water I guess.” She looked up to the girl working the stand, her cargo shorts screaming uber dyke. She seemed nice. Her name tag simply read ‘Dot.’

“Ha, not sure about that.” Dot poured another coffee, handing it to a student who took a swig, looking equally as displeased as it ran down their throat. 

“Thanks though.” Leah made the effort to smile, even though it was a painful endeavor, she knew dealing with pissy customers was not fair on any worker. Dot hadn’t fucked up her day. Jesus or some karma shit had. 

  
Her eyes landed upon bare legs, killer legs before they trawled up to the girl that owned them. W _hy can't she just leave me be?_

“Hey.” 

“Hi.” Leah lowered the book she was reading.

“Reading Dickenson while working? English major?” 

Placing the bookmark in the pages she closed it, sighing deeply. 

“Yes I am, but I’m reading because I like books and I need a distraction from this shitty Hell hole.”

“Oh, so you _are_ a book nerd?” 

The words sat with Leah in a way that made her feel deeply uncomfortable. As if she hadn’t heard that one before from some stuck up popular dick. _Fucking book nerd_. Then again, she was stuck inside reading classics when she was technically meant to be finished working, but she’d hit an interesting piece and had got vaguely distracted. She wouldn’t tell the girl that though.

“I didn’t mean that like,” The girl backtracked after seeing her recoil. “Okay so anyhow,” Hands dropped a coffee and sandwich on the desk. “I didn’t know if you were like vegan or some shit so I just went with falafel.”

Vegan or some shit. “I’m vegetarian.” She still hadn’t looked up, refusing to meet the judgemental gaze for even a second. “What the hell is this for, Fatin?” 

“You remember my name?” The cocky tone poured off her. 

“You make quite the shit impression. So yes. Now,” She looked up, not prepared for those dark eyes and hair she wouldn’t honestly mind running her fingers through. Shaking her head she pushed the book away. “Why the fuck do you keep bringing me food?” 

Fatin’s smile faltered, but only for a second. Leah wasn’t sure if she had just imagined it entirely because now the girl stood as smug as ever _. Jeez she was annoying._

“Because you’re so tense you either need a coffee or an orgasm.” 

Her mouth hung open. _She was not serious?_

“And an orgasm seemed out of the question so I went with coffee.”  
  
With the smug turn of a lip on the girl stood before her, she felt the pit of her abdomen heat up. _Why the fuck was she turned on by this?_

Taking a sip of the coffee, Leah refused to smile. Because she had got her a shot of vanilla and how the hell did she know she ordered a damn shot of vanilla. Then again staring down at her Ramones band tee and scuffed docs maybe she did give off a tad 'basic-bitch' vibe.

“Oh, I’m sure you’d know about that.” It was a cheap shot and Leah didn’t know why she found herself actually feeling bad for it. 

“Trust me, a healthy sex life is nothing to be ashamed about.” If Fatin was bothered she didn’t show it. “But I’m sure the coffee will help you out because I’m guessing the other area is lacking.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

“No one freshly laid is this tense.”

Leah narrowed her eyes. “I’m fine on that front thank you.”

She wasn’t. In all honesty, Leah hadn’t been with anyone since Jeff. A few dates here and there that normally ended in some form of a panic attack or heart thudding anxiety. She was over him now, though that sense of fucked up panic never left she no longer obsessed over where he was and what he was doing. She didn’t care about him. Then again, maybe that was yet another of one of the many lies Leah Rilke told herself to help her sleep at night. Lies that festered in piles of memories and regrets souring as the days passed.

“Hey, look, just joking.” She wasn’t. A hand covered her own; which she realized now was furiously tapping away whilst she mentally zoned out. 

She pulled her fingers back, running them through her hair. “Thank you for the coffee.” Throwing her jacket on she grabbed the coffee.

“Leah you were meant to be out of here a half-hour ago.” Her work colleague looked vaguely pissed, but hey, it’s not like she was expecting to get paid for it. The tight ass place hardly paid her anything for the hours she actually worked anyway.

Avoiding the gazes of the guy she was on shift with and Fatin; she walked as fast as she could to class.

Waking up at 3 am is never fun. Yet here she was yet again after another nightmare trying to quench the bassline pumping full force through her chest. Fuck. Her sweaty palms tugged the comforter down, seeking any cool breeze at all.

“You good?” 

The one helpful thing about her roommate is Rachel never seemed to sleep either; both of them just fucked up and needing a constant distraction. 

“Yeah. All good.” 

Rachel chucked her a bottle of water and continued reading a book; she was an absolute genius with the amount of reading she crammed in between swim practices.

“Thanks.” Water running down her dry throat she reached for her book. That one battered copy of Emily Dickinson’s poetry she’d broken the spine on and annotated to fuck, feeling some kind of pull, some kind of a drag to the despair and pain that lay within each line. However, as fingers traced her bedside table, she grasped at emptiness. She’d left the book at work. Shit. 

Without her usual book, she felt her mind reeling, tracing over every edge of uncertainty and angst. After burning Jeff's book she had turned to the copy of Dickinson's poetry; annotating it as he had for her, but this time she left the notes for herself, trying to rewrite the mistake that was Jeff.

She never fell back asleep. Leah called Ian, claiming she was sick, hiding the pain when he said he hadn’t seen the copy she’d left on the desk. Her chest heaved as she hyperventilated. No, she would not spare any thought to that mess. 

Yet she did, even when she awoke the next day obsessively shifting everything around in hopes it would magically manifest in her grasp. It didn’t. 

“You weren’t in yesterday.” Fatin smiled as she put the coffee down. 

Why couldn’t she leave her well enough alone? 

“Sick.” Leah tapped her finger. She knew the anxiety was obvious and couldn’t give a shit about hiding it. 

“Thought you might want this too.” 

The tattered book lay in front of her, breath seizing in her chest. Finally, her finger stopped moving. “Thank you.” Smiling at the book she pulled it back under the desk. 

“Oh, so literature deliveries make you smile? Noted.” Why did she care so much about how often she fucking smiled?

“The notes were kind of deep though. Gave a real gothic horror vibe.” 

“You read my fucking notes?” 

“Chill, I thought it was for study and got bored. I only read a handful of pages before I realized-”

“Please leave me the fuck alone.” Leah put the book in her bag. “Ian I’m clocking out early.” Of course, the stuck-up ass read her god damn diary notes on her shitty feelings. Jesus.

Somehow, with her book back in her hands, she felt even worse.


	3. The One With The Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs that inspired this chapter:  
> Call On Me by Eric Prydz (The music video for this 100% made me gay.)
> 
> TW: Some E (ish) rated content mid-chapter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Day 666 in the UK lockdown and I have run out of Australian Survivor to binge (Don't look at me like that amazon only had two of the seasons). Have a rad weekend guys, hydrate and all that shit. I'm on tumblr gay-art-vibes. Just a short update with the SOPHIE news, I hope you guys are all okay, it's hit the LGBT+ community bloody hard and I'm sending a hug to anyone who needs it today.

**Fatin POV**

She missed a week of coffee deliveries, of blue eyes and sarcasm. 

Fatin didn’t know why the girl wouldn’t leave her head, she had concluded it was purely because she needed to fuck it out of her system. But to do that; she needed to win Leah over… And that wasn’t happening any time soon. 

After the book fiasco, she realized she needed to give the girl some god damn space; Fatin was starting to sound like a ‘rapey frat bro’. Yet space really fucking sucked, especially when she had to see the girl standing in line to that one- _absolutely shit_ \- coffee cart almost every damn morning. That girl who looked so perfect, so hot in her band tees and ripped jeans. God Fatin loved her band tees; it was a glimpse into the world of the girl who would let no soul in, similar to the insight through the notes in her book. Dark thoughts and rock music didn’t seem to quite fit the girl from afar; and yet it was the thing that drew her in most. 

Fatin took the coffee of the cute guy and smiled. She’d get his number later. 

Leah’s notes were what kept Fatin in close proximity to her. She would spare a glance into the book store without going in, she would see her heading to a lecture or talking animately to the girl at the crap coffee place. She wanted to know that she was okay; because nothing about those notes were fine. Everything about the notes sat on her shoulders like some weight she couldn’t shake, a glimpse into where the girl went mentally every time she spaced out. 

So Fatin was completely surprised when she saw the eyes of the girl, dancing carefree at a frat party.

“Didn’t take you for the frat party type.” It sounded harsher than she’d intended. 

“Oh, what did you take me for? Sad loner, or how did you put it… a book nerd?” Leah gulped down the last of the liquid in her red solo cup. 

“No.” The retort caught her momentarily off guard and she straightened out her dress as she moved her focus nervously to the floor. _What the fuck Jadmani? You don’t do fucking nerves_. “I just meant, frat parties are kind of gross.” It wasn’t what she had meant; Leah was right in her cutting assumption.

The music pounded in her ears as she watched Leah sway. Taking a drink from her own cup she felt the warmth in her body as she swayed slightly herself. 

“What the fuck is your deal Fatin?” Leah filled her cup up and began drinking again. “You buy me food, you’re everywhere I fucking look, you’re,”

“You’re cute.” 

Choking on her drink, the girl wiped her top lip. “What?”

“I said you’re cute.” Fatin smiled because she was many drinks down and Leah was cute. _So damn cute_. She thought maybe it was her nose, her finger touched it without thinking and Fatin smiled. Of course, her nose was soft. 

Then the girl was shifting away because of course she was, Fatin was poking her nose drunk as shit and it was fucking weird like she was a four-year-old banging on the glass of the aquariums at the zoo. 

A hand tugged on hers and she realized Leah was pulling her through the crowd, all the way up the stairs to the other bathroom because they already knew what was happening on the back of the seat in the downstairs toilet. 

“Leah what th,” 

Then lips were on hers, Fatin barely registering the locking of the bathroom door that the girl had pushed her against. Confused, her lips remained still beneath hers and Leah pulled back. 

“Shit, sorry I thought,” Her lips were swollen as she spoke.

“Leah just shut up.” 

This time Fatin pushed her against the door; would she hell be a bottom. Her lips scraped harshly against the girl beneath hers, hand gently tugging at fistfuls of that coconut-scented hair as her other dropped to grab her ass, she rolled her hips and moved to kiss the girls neck. _Fuck, she smelt unfairly good._

When Leah moaned into the kiss she slowed. Something about it just felt, off.

“Leah, not that I’m not enjoying this, because I really am but what the fuck?” 

Fingers pulled on the front of Fatin’s dress, tugging her in. “Look I just really don’t want to be in my head tonight. And this? This seems like the easiest way out. So please stop talking and fuck me, I know it's what you do best.”

Fatin knew in the back of her mind this was not what she was looking for, but as teeth clawed down her neck and a hand dropped between her legs she was done giving a fuck about what her brain had to say. 

“Fuck fine.” She stilled the hand between her legs, pushing it away before pulling off the girl's jeans and lifting her onto the cabinet. Placing her hands above the girl's head she told her not to move them; making it clear she didn’t want to be touched. Not tonight. 

“Fatin could you just-”

Leah moaned as Fatin dropped her hands, catching the noise in her mouth as her tongue traced the other girl’s. 

“How many?” Her hand shook gently as she tried to ignore the heat of the girl beneath it.

“Two.” Her head fell against the wall with a thud. “Fuck.”

  
Fatin wasn’t sure why she felt the way she did. She wasn’t sure why when Leah came she was kissing her. She wasn’t sure why She dropped her head for round two. She still wasn’t sure why she didn’t want to move from between the girl's legs, or why they kissed up against the door for thirty minutes after the second time she came. 

What she was sure of was that Fatin Jadmani was well and truly fucked, and not in the good sense of the word. 

  
Fatin pulled her headphones on, avoiding the coffee cart the next day. She didn’t cast a single thought to how Leah sounded or tasted. She didn’t stare at her in the line or take note of what she wore. 

Yet she didn’t have to. Because Fatin never kissed people much during sex, and certainly not after. She already knew. She liked Leah. 

  
“Ian stop being a dick.” 

The girl's face stilled as she turned around, Fatin’s eyes were already cast down. 

“Fatin,”

“I’m just here for the books I ordered.” She swallowed, ignoring the slight nausea that cast up a storm within her.

“Oh.” Leah laughed to herself, it was bitter and the pain it brought well deserved. 

She pulled out her phone, running through the email from her basketball coach as she waited for Leah to find the books, not moving her eyes from the words in front of her. 

“Here.” The girl dropped the books with a thud. 

“Thanks.” Fatin picked them up, fuck they were heavy.

“Sure you don’t want some hot guy to carry them out for you?” It was a low blow; but again, It was deserved. 

She turned without a word, ignoring the bitter laughter and a whispered 'fuck you' that sounded once again, the clip of it on repeat in her head as she walked to her next class. 

  
Never had she dropped so many passes. Yet as she stood on the court Fatin’s head was up her ass, mind swarming around all things Rilke. 

The ball clipped her face.

“Fuck Fatin, get it together jeez.” Toni wiped her face with her jersey. “I don’t know where the fuck your head is but we need you focussed for the game.” 

She smiled, burying everything she felt away as she always perfectly did. “My head is fine Toni, you know I sometimes just have an off shit day, plus I just got ned nails and this ball is fucking with my gel. I really just need to have sex. Dry spell.” 

Martha threw the ball to her. “A dry spell? Isn’t that everything you stand against?”

Chuckling Toni made a shot. “Maybe we just need to get you a nice new toothbrush.” 

Of course, Toni would never fucking drop that, the girl had a way of dredging it up, smugly in any argument just to try and get a rise out of her. It really pissed the girl off that Fatin was eternally chill, forever wanting her to break that Russian Doll wall complex.

“Fuck off that was one time.”

“Why a toothbrush?” 

Oh, Martha. Sweet innocent Martha. 

“No reason.”

  
She just needed to bang the Leah out of her system. Like a detox, only with far more dick. **A dick-tox.**

So every free night she had that week she frequented a party in some number that barely covered her skin. She stood by the wall chatting to guys trying to find who was the least irritating as hell before asking them to take her home or pulling them into a bathroom. 

Though she had no idea when it started, the guys seemed more annoying than ever, and God save her when some of them tried to use sex talk or moan she felt herself dying a little inside. Soon she started to realize it didn’t have the same effect. The act that once brought her happiness and a wave of calm now left her feeling even more fucking frustrated than before. She couldn’t even enjoy an orgasm, stuck on the never-ending verge or will I until the guy she was with either gave up or finished himself.

The incessant need to have an orgasm was driving her to the brink of insanity. Thinking back she couldn’t actually remember a time where she had gone days, weeks, almost a month without one. This was the slump to end all slumps. The Golden Girls were getting freakier than Fatin and that was a thought that did not sit well with her at fucking all. She would not be out sexed by Betty Fricken White. She should have just let Leah fuck her.

If anyone around her noticed they didn’t say, though she saw the curiosity in Toni’s eyes, the girl knew better to press her for details. Fatin was a closed book even between friends, even those friends she had once slept with. 

“Dude you’re so on edge I can feel it from here.”

Fatin threw a pillow at Nora. “Fuck off.” 

Nora smiled, returning to her book. 

“Say, theoretically, if someone was really in your head. Like every thought, they just kinda hovered in. How would you get them out?”

The girl dropped her book. “You like someone?” 

Fatin choked because _no she did not fucking like someone_ , she wanted to fuck someone. Just repeatedly, she refused to accept that was the same as her liking someone. 

“No, I just want to have sex with someone, without the strings but I can't. They’re fucked up emotionally right now and I can’t fuck with her more,”

“Her?”

“Yes, I’m Bi Nora.”

“Same.”

“I know you were literally tonguing a girl the first day when I walked in.”

“Still, bi buddies. Why the fuck didn’t you say that sooner I thought I was stuck with a het-mate.”

“A het-mate?”

“A heterosexual roomm-”

“Oh. Shit well sorry, I assumed the basketball would give that one away.”

“Fatin you have a manicure. And wear fluffy fur coats.” 

“Femme erasure sucks balls.” Fatin leaned back on her pillow. _God her nails were perfect_.

“True but still, shocked. You just talk about dick SO much. Curveball.” Nora grinned in between bites of her chocolate bar. “But I would say the same as you. The best way to get over her is probably just to get under her. Unless she’s straight. Then holy shit are you fucked babe.”

Yet getting under her again is the one thing she didn’t want to fucking do.

  
By the tenth guy, Fatin realized sex wasn’t getting out of this God awful slump. Her stresses began to pile up and holy fuck was she done.

“What are you doing here Fatin?” Leah gawked at her, beyond pissed.


	4. God, Rich People Smell Good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs that inspired this chapter:  
> Stroke by Banks
> 
> TW: some E ish rated content.

**Fatin POV**

  
She stared into the eyes of a girl who clearly wanted her anywhere but here; if merely her presence had that effect she was sure the upcoming proposition might get her a hot drink splashed across her face, Glee slushie style. Yet she placed her hands on the desk, ignoring the coconut scent that drove her to the brink of insanity, and cleared her throat. At this point Fatin was left no choice; unfortunately, it was something she had to ask, ripping off the bandaid that was Leah Rilke.

“Look, I,” Fatin placed a coffee on the desk and slid it to Leah, noting she probably shouldn’t have worn white today in case the girl decided to decimate her three-hundred dollar top with it. 

“I don’t want your fucking coffee.” 

_Well, this was going to go swimmingly._

“Leah,” 

The girl laughed. “Fuck off Fatin. You do not get to ignore me for a solid month then expect me to be all nicey nice because you bought me a fucking latte. Fuck. Off.” 

_That was a whole lot of ‘fucks’ compact into one sentence._

Fatin stepped back slightly, hands gripping the edge of the desk for dear life. “Look I didn’t mean to ignore you, I just didn’t want you to get the wrong impression.”

“What that it didn’t mean something? Fatin I knew that. You’ve fucked half the college, believe me, I didn’t think five minutes in between my legs was going to make you see heaven and repent of all your si-”

“It was an hour.”

The girl took a swig of the coffee. _That was something_. “Being a fucking douche after however was on you.” _Ooft then again, maybe not._

“Leah,”

“Please just go.”

“No.” 

“Just, what the fuck do you want. I’m tired, I don’t need this shit today.” Her hand clenched the coffee as if it were the only thing grounding her to staying in that room with Fatin.

“Look I shouldn’t have ignored you, It’s just, you deserved better, and I wanted to, you know again, but I only do casual and I didn’t want to mess with your head because you don’t deserve that.” She put the coffee down, meeting Fatin’s concerned look. “But I can’t get that night out of my fucking head, and I can’t, you know, anymore.” She shot a quick glance at Leah’s co-worker that was staring at her like a live telenovela. “And it’s been one whole month and I,”

“What do you mean you know?” Leah raised a brow.

Fatin glared at the co-worker who clearly wasn’t going to budge a fucking inch. “I can’t orgasm. Are you happy?”

The laugh that came out of the girl this time made Fatin smile, because it was the first genuine hearty chuckle, as she wrapped her head around how absurd the situation was. God, she loved that laugh. The co-worker busied himself with pamphlets, completely red in the face.

“So you’re bringing me coffee, so we can have sex, and you can go back to having orgasms as usual with your merry men?” 

Fatin clenched her jaw. “I’m not Robin Hood. This is why I was ignoring you.”

A hand grabbed her arm before she could turn to leave. 

“Look, what you did was fucking shit, communicate with whoever you fuck next time. You act like some high school fuck boy like jeez.” She pulled the coffee up taking a swig. “But, I have someone I need to get over and we could probably help each other out.” 

_Well fuck._ This she didn’t see coming at all. 

“Don’t look so fucking shocked Fatin I still think you’re an asshole. I just think you’re a decent fuck.” 

She tried to not let that one sting, but it did. However, Leah was drinking the coffee and she thought actually she didn’t care what she thought about her. She just needed that mouth out of her system. _To get over you have to get under._

“You free tonight?”

Leah rolled her eyes. “I’m not drunk enough for this right now. Tonight, mine, my roommates out at a swim meet. Just don’t bring me a fucking coffee. It makes shit weird.”

_No coffee. Noted._

Fatin stared down at the thirtieth outfit she had tried on in the mirror, running her hands over the silk dress and groaning. _Too formal_. The girl never had an issue with fashion, it was her thing. She lived for the excess of an outfit and making an impact, hiding any worries she felt behind a huge fur coat in pastel pink. But now she stared at the contents of her closet, wondering why the fuck she had nothing that felt right for tonight with Leah. 

Shit, she was a mess. 

Fatin didn’t do anxiety or worry, and right now as she stared at the clothes that were literally all she felt, pondering if she had made the right choice. But Jadmani’s didn’t back down, and she needed a fucking orgasm or she would lose the last of her sanity that was left, and currently very little remained. 

“Just go with a t-shirt and jeans, I can hear you thinking from over here.” Nora threw the items at her, articles of clothing swamping her own bed as well as her roommates, her anxiety turning their room into a clothing bomb site. 

“I’m not overthinking.” Fatin pulled off the dress reaching for the jeans. 

“You are, and you really shouldn’t because you have a KILLER ass girl.” Nora smiled and awkwardly clicked her hands like a gay man at a Victoria’s Secret show.

“I do have a great ass. It’s one of my best ass-sets.”

Nora closed her laptop screen, cautiously looking at the girl. “Was that a joke?” 

Pulling on the plain white tee she shook her head. _No of course it wasn’t a fucking joke._

“You just made a pun? Intentionally? Fuck are you okay Jadmani?” Nora raised the back of her hand to the girl's temple. “No temperature but that seems like alarm bells.”

“Oh, fuck off!” She grabbed her bag.

“Do you need condoms?”

“No, there are no dicks involved tonight.”

Nora narrowed her gaze. “Well have fun and stay safe. I’ll miss you, and will be stealing your food.” 

“Leave my food! If you touch my peanut noodles you're dead Nor.”

Her hand stilled at Leah’s door, refusing to knock just yet. Gently she shook out her limbs. Jeez come on Fatin you have this. Just a normal Friday fucking night.

**Leah POV**

Leah took a swig of the vodka that hid under her bed for the real mental breakdowns she needed to take the edge off of. Was alcohol an ideal coping method? No, of course fucking not. But here she stood, knowing she was having sex tonight with Fatin and fuck. God, she was hot. 

Another swig. She pulled on her high waisted black jeans and looked at herself in the mirror, pulling her yellow cropped top on. Her hair was down, curled slightly, just enough Fatin would notice, but not enough that she looked like she had intentionally put the effort in. _Just sex._

She had a theory and she had hoped it was right. After that night at the party, Jeff had been barely in her mind at all, the obsessions now gone and thoughts instead turning to Fatin, her fingers, soft lips, and that fucking cocky as shit smile. She knew it was casual; and perhaps that’s exactly what she needed. She didn’t want the anxieties back of fixation and obsession. She wanted something fast to heal the wounds of her memories, and as attachment wasn’t the girl's thing; Fatin was just the right choice. 

Beating on the door sounded and she half jumped out of her skin, spilling vodka on her top. _Of fucking course. Great._

Opening the door Fatin looked her up and down, it made Leah want to crawl out of her skin. She knew who the girl slept with, what they looked like, and did. They were someone. Leah stood here as no one; an easy lay if that, but she didn’t care. She just wanted Fatin back between her legs. 

“Already starting the party?” She smiled that smug, sexy smile and shit was she annoying. 

“Yeah, already spilling the party all down my shirt, coming in or just gonna stand there?”

The girl froze at the door, seemingly contemplating if she actually wanted to have sex or not which struck Leah in the heart. Was she really that bad?

“Okay so, what are we watching?” 

“What?” 

“Just put something on netflix so this isn’t quite as weird. We’re kind of like each others sex workers at this point, just without the monetary exchange. Not that I’m shaming sex workers, I believe in protecting them and their jo-”

“Fatin just stop rambling and sit on the bed.” 

Leah reached for the remote, aimlessly clicking the first thing on her continue watching list. A scream filled the room as a narrator started talking.

“Could we maybe not watch a murder docu. I really want an orgasm but not that much.” Fatin laid back on the bed, her hands mindlessly tugging at the sheets. 

She threw the remote at the girl. “Just don’t put on any cartoons, the voices freak me the fuck out.” 

Grabbing the remote Fatin flicked through, taking what felt like ages to find something before settling on Lucifer. _Yeah, that could work._

She met the girl's eyes, staring up opposite her across the bed. Fatin swallowed and started checking her phone. Okay, maybe this wasn’t the best idea. Leah tugged off her shirt and went to her closet.

“Topless already ay? You could have just asked.” The girl smiled up at her, tempting.

“I spilled vodka on it, I don’t want to smell like a damn frat house tomorrow.”

Sifting through her closet she tried to sum up what the hell was cute enough to wear. As her mind was completing that mental agility hands wrapped around her waist and she swallowed. 

“You may as well just leave it. I wasn’t going to leave it on you anyway.” The voice in her ear was low and hit her straight where the girl had intended it to. 

Leah did something totally fucking weird then, if you ask her now she’d say it was the alcohol that hit her with confidence, if you asked her tomorrow maybe she would perhaps admit it was that voice. She turned, taking Fatin’s face into her own, bunching fistfuls of hair in her hands as she met her lips. 

She hadn’t been the only one drinking, she could taste the alcohol on the girl's lips, mixed with vanilla and all things wildly intoxicating. 

Her hands pushed Fatin on the bed and froze. That was new. 

Fatin looked up at her with a look that said confused but impressed, one that quickly turned dark when Leah leaned over to kiss her, her other hand working the button on the girl's jeans and shit was it fiddly. 

Pulling the jeans off she tugged her to the edge of the bed, perhaps a little too harsh as the girl gasped just slightly too loud. Lips harshly grazed those of the girl below her, damp and rushing as she trailed down to her neck. _God rich people smell good._ The moans of the girl took her away from her trance and she gently nipped at the skin of her jaw with her teeth. Moving to take off her underwear she dipped her head, not caring she was mostly clothed and Fatin was still in her shirt. She wanted to lead this, she needed to take back some- literally any- semblance of top superiority after the party.

“You’re not new to this then.” 

She bit the inside of her thigh, feeling them tighten around her in response. “New to what?” 

“Sex, with girls.” Fatin’s arms gave out and she laid back, feeling the girl creeping closer to where she needed her. 

“I’m bi Fatin.”

“Same.” The word turned into a heavy moan as a tongue traced along her. 

“How long did you say it’s been since you… you know.” 

“You can say orgasm Leah, your head is literally in between my legs.” 

With that response, Leah added two fingers, kind of done with the absolutely boring sarcasm.

“Fuck.”

“How long?” 

“A month give or take.” The girl's breath grew faster.

“We should probably fix that then. Wouldn’t want you a tense book nerd like me.”


	5. Jeff is a Dick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs that inspired this chapter:  
> Literally everything Florence and the Machine, I'm vibing over here.
> 
> TW: mentions of abuse (Leah and Jeff) similar to TV plotline.

**Fatin POV**

Fatin lost count of how many times she had came at this point, the numbers lost to the night and the taste of herself on Leah’s mouth. 

Pushing the girl roughly down against the bed she kissed her. She wasn’t sure why but she hated the absence of the girl’s lips on her own, feeling this weird magnetism that made her feel whole only when she held her. Fatin didn’t think deeply into the why or how, she just kissed Leah as if she was going to leave the next minute, for a solid half-hour before dropping her hand. She hadn’t even had a chance to touch her, and she had been here for hours. 

“When is your roommate back?” The words were said under heavy breaths and soft sighs. 

“Tomorrow midday.” 

Fatin mentally summed it up, she could stay, she could lay in Leah’s arms kissing her and stay whole, or she could leave. She didn’t do sleepovers. _Friends with benefits didn’t do that shit_. 

Her hand dropping between them she worked the girl, not sure why she felt the need to kiss her even as she shuddered beneath her lips, and still ten minutes after. 

Hurriedly she pulled on her shirt, counting down the minutes to midnight like Cinderella, scared of falling asleep. “Have you seen my underwear?” 

“Why?” Leah’s face dropped momentarily, something turned in her stomach at the sight, before she threw her underwear at her. “Your trousers are by the door.” 

“How did they get over there?” 

Leah shrugged picking up a copy of a book Fatin hadn’t seen before, and like that they were back to the usually distanced rapport.

Fatin shrugged on her clothes and nodded to Leah from the door as if concluding some weird ass business deal. “Thank you, I uh, I had a nice time.” 

“No problem.” 

“Leah, I don’t want you to feel like I’m using you or something. That’s not,”

“If anything we’re using one another as much as each other.” She took a swig of the alcohol.

_If anything we’re using one another as much as each other._

“Okay. Goodnight.” 

“Night.” 

Leah’s voice held on to that tint of bitterness at the end of her tongue, and Fatin wasn’t quite sure why she hated it so damn much. She wasn’t sure why the hell she cried silently that night, or why she texted Toni asking her if she thought she was fucked up, or why the tears fell harder when she looked at the number Leah had put in her phone, the one she wouldn’t dare message. Fatin need to grow a fucking uterus and get over whatever the fuck this was.

  
She found it harder after that. Staring at the coffee stand each day, she would ponder what the fuck to do, eventually freaking out and leaving without one even for herself. Shadows of the girl were everywhere, in every brunette, band shirt, or boots. In every girl she slept with in between that somehow shared one feature or another with her, but it was no coincidence. Fatin could orgasm again, but why the fuck did she feel so empty, and why did images of Leah sit in the front of her mind every damn time.

After a single week, she decided the wait was enough, knocking hard on the door. 

“Hi?” 

“Hi is Leah in?” 

The girl smiled up at her. “Yeah, I was just heading out.” 

The girl's hand pounded on the shower door. “Leah some cute girl is here for you.” 

Fatin rose a brow, _she was cute_. 

“Just tell her I’ll see her later.” 

It was too late, the door was shut and Fatin was inside pacing with half a coffee cart's worth of take out in her hands like a complete fucking moron. 

The door opened and Leah stepped out in a towel, freezing as she saw her, the look colder than ever as her eyes traipsed over the contents in her hands. 

“I can leave?” Fatin had her shoulders pressed against the door like she was ready to fall through a portal to literally anywhere else on this fucking planet. 

Still paralyzed, the girl tugged her towel tighter to her form, eyes darting down to the food before meeting hers. “What did I say about the fucking coffee?”

She placed the food down on the bed. “Technically it’s not just coffee. I’m willing to drink two if you just want a cream cheese bagel and doughnut.”

The brunette's stomach grumbled and she pulled again at the towel. “Fine just turn around while I get dressed.”

“Leah my head was literally,”

“Turn around.”

Finding zero interest in the door her eyes dropped to the cabinet, taking in the pots of pills that sat there, organized in tight rows.

“Stop snooping at my shit.”

“You can't even see where I’m looking right now.”

“No, but I know how much you like to pry. You can turn around now.” 

Swallowing she took in the girl's pajamas because they were entirely fucking cute and everything Leah Rilke. “Friday the 13th pajamas? Freddy fan?”

Leah reached into the bag pulling out a bagel. “I like horrors. Something about watching a guy who takes advantage of kids getting murdered just speaks to me. More men like that deserve his fate. The burning death part, not the coming back as a dream hunting demon part.”

She decided not to push that subject, dropping onto the bed and grabbing the remote from the side table, raising it to browse the TV.

“What are you doing?”

“Finding something to watch.” She pressed play on Annabelle and got comfy on the bed. 

“Fatin what the fuck is this?” Leah mumbled around bites of the bagel.

“I don’t have Netflix.” It was a lie. Fatin had every subscription service under the sun, including Disney+ for Kim Possible and Camp Rock nights she would never admit to.

“Aren’t you like rich?”

Fatin swallowed, _well that was a point_. “Rich people are only rich because we sponge off everyone else.” 

That was something the girl couldn’t argue with. “All this food literally would have cost you more than Netflix. You bought five fucking types of bagel?”

“I didn’t know what you liked.” 

Reaching for the coffee she took a swig.

“I thought you said no coffee?”

“You bought five fucking bagel types that’s the least of my worries.” 

Fuck, had she overdone it? Five bagel types were total normal ‘sometimes we fuck’ friend shit right?

“I didn’t know what you liked.” She moaned. Why was Leah making this so God damn weird?

“Look if you’re here to have sex,”

“That wasn’t why I came.”

“Could we just get to it anyhow? The bagels made shit weird and we both know we’re not friends so now we're in this weird-ass,”

Fatin’s lips were on Leah’s mostly to shut the girl up, cutting away the hurt she felt in the words. She straddled her scraped her ear with her teeth knowing it was one thing that made Leah weak; was she fuck doing that bottom shit today.

  
**Leah POV**

“Don’t look at me like that it’s weird.” 

“I’m not looking at you like,” 

“You are Fatin just say it.” 

“Okay well, then who the fuck is Jeff?”

Leah rolled over putting her top on. Why the fuck had her brain let that one out.

“It’s just if you’re screaming some dude's name in my ear I’d like to get to know the guy. Is he hot? I’m fully happy for him to join us.”

Shaking her head, she rested it between her palms. “Jeff is the ex I’m trying to get over.” 

“Oh.” The girl ran a hand through her hair, freezing it momentarily then removing it. Leah thought it was kind of a weirdly sweet gesture before Fatin over-thought it. “So do you want him back?”

She cast a thought to her past; only momentarily. Enough to remember the shitty human who took advantage of her, who used her and threw her to the curb when he found out her age; because the signing of her book in her high school hadn’t clarified that she was a minor. Then again she thought maybe it wasn't her age that ended the relationship but more the birth certificate being emailed to him; _because that meant someone else knew_. She didn’t think of the nights they spent together as cherished any more, she thought about his touch and felt the nausea pooling, bile rising at the mere thought of his name. Yet his name remained there, on the tip of her tongue at the forefront of her mind eternally. 

A dead, soulless laugh came from the girl. “No that didn’t work out.” 

“Is he a dick? Do you need me to punch him in the balls? I’m more than happy to.” 

“No we dated ages ago anyhow, haven't seen him in years. I was seventeen, we met in high school.” 

“High school sweethearts gone wrong, was it that secretly dating a jock trope?” 

It was a joke but Leah felt it curdle within her, twisting at that door she tried to keep so fucking shut. 

“No, he was, he was older. He came in and did a speech at my school and we kind of,”

“Leah how old was he?”

She laughed again, the tears running a little hotter. “Look, I don’t want to go into this. We have sex Fatin, we don’t do whatever this is.”

“How old was he?”

“Much older okay? It ended shitly, he thought I was eighteen, I lied and everything was going great until someone emailed him my birth certificate. It was my fucking fault. I lied Fatin.” 

Arms were around her and tightly, restricting the emotions in a way that calmed her slightly. “He knew you were in high school, all girls that age lie. He knew Leah, and even if you were eighteen I don’t give a fuck if he was way older its wrong.”

“He didn’t know my age.”

“He didn’t have to. Leah, he took advantage that’s statu-”

“I know.”

“Leah I’m so sorry he,”

“Fatin please don’t. Don’t act like I’m broken or some shit. I get enough of that from everyone back home. Just, kiss me. Can we just pretend this didn’t fucking happen?” 

When Fatin kissed her she tried to pretend it wasn’t different, that it wasn’t soft and caring and that the girl didn’t hold her like she was trying to put the pieces back together. But she felt it, and she knew as she lost herself to the cream cheese flavor of her lips and the smiles in between breaths that she was well and truly fucked. Because Leah Rilke knew at that moment that she liked Fatin, and she wanted her more than she should have ever let herself.

  
Fatin didn’t stay. She hadn’t expected her to anyway, and that’s perhaps what hurt the most. Yet again she was falling for someone so entirely fucking wrong and yet she hung on to each kiss like it was a T.V. show on repeat in her mind. 

Leah needed to take some of the aged old advice. She needed to get under someone other than Fatin Jadmani because this would otherwise end in flames, and she didn’t quite know if she could take being burnt.

Yet again.


	6. Jealous Jadmani

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs that inspired this chapter:  
> Mr. Brightside by The Killers
> 
> TW: Alcohol, mentions of a panic attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back with a dose of trash. Enjoy guys. Hydrate, eat, watch reruns of survivor; Idk all that good shit.

  
**Fatin POV**

Friday nights had ritually become Leah nights, though she didn’t stay, they normally fell into each other's arms for a few hours, taking away the stress of the week before returning to the reality in which they refused to acknowledge each other. A comfortable oblivion of sorts.

It was weird but it worked. Fatin found that in between she could enjoy the company of others again, and whilst she didn’t truly 'enjoy' their company, she enjoyed the routine of being back to her normal self; and that was something she held on to. She could lose herself to the drunken nights and random fumbles in a bathroom, bedroom, or car (Fatin wasn’t picky) blissed out as alcohol spurred her on.

Pressing the fabric of the blue dress she looked into the mirror. 

“Looking sexy Jadmani!” Nora dropped onto her bed. 

“You sure you don’t want to come? Cute people? Alcohol? Music?”

“Loud music isn’t really my thing. Or crowds. Oh and strangers? But have a good time gal.” 

“You know me. I’ll have a great time.” 

“That’s what I like to hear! It’s nice seeing you back to your normal self again, it was so weird seeing you nervous. Lind of like a weird Jadmani clone filled with, well, me.”

“I was not,”

“Please, I am the king of anxiety, you cannot hide that stuff from me. It’ just nice seeing you happy again is all.” 

She was set on the fact she would. A good time was what she needed so as she walked through the party she let herself sum up every possible opportunity to end this night well, fingers nursing some grimly fruity drink as her eyes fell to the crowd.

“Fatin!”

“Toni!” 

She wrapped her arms around the girl who was smiling away. “You seem happy?” 

“Shelby’s not here so my ass is free of that Jesus shit.” 

“Thank fuck.” She smiled down at the grinning girl. “Drinks?” 

What she didn’t expect whilst getting a shot, was to see a random girl licking Leah’s abdomen as alcohol pooled in her bellybutton. _Why the fuck was she here? And since when did she do body shots?_

The girl made her way up her body, stopping at her mouth to take the lime, slowly kissing her after as all the guys whooped around them. _God, men were gross._

Fatin felt part of her heart chip off at that moment, and she wasn’t sure why the fuck it did. 

“Leah.” 

The girl sat up, arms around the stranger, hands bunched in her hair. “Fatin, hey.” Her words were slightly slurred and the girl kissed her again. 

Whilst there is many ways in which someone who can express their emotions could react, there was only one way in which someone who wanted to repress those would. So Fatin grabbed the nearest cute looking guy and dragged him to the bathroom, hands dragging frantically across his body as she tried to feel just something other than whatever the fuck that was. 

His hands were cold. A weird thing to pay attention to when someone is grabbing your ass. His moans were annoying, like who the hell did this guy think he was? And fuck, he was so shit with his hands that she wasn’t actually sure what the fuck he was attempting other than perhaps an exorcism on her vagina. Then again Fatin thought maybe she did have some demons that needed banishing.

With another of his moans, Fatin pulled back, pushing him away. 

_Fuck_. Annoyingly turned on and ready for something quick and hot she left the bathroom, looking around the party. 

Leah was sat on the lap of that annoyingly cute girl, her lips lost to hers, hand trailing along the bare skin of her back. 

“Can we talk?” 

“Later.” Her lips returned to the girl's and Fatin wanted to throw up, punch a wall or drink an entire bottle of gin. She wasn’t sure which but all three might do. 

“Please? Five minutes then you can return to this lovely lady's lap.” She narrowed her eyes slightly at the girl Leah removed herself from, Fatin could take this girl.

Rolling her eyes she stood. “What?” 

So Fatin pulled her to the bathroom and ran her hands through her hair as she tried to process even a single one of the thoughts firing out mindlessly in her head. 

“Why are you here Leah?”

“You do realize I go to parties right? Like, that’s not some crazy thing for a college student to do?”

Her chest tightened and she didn’t know what to say that wouldn’t ruin her fucking life. So, she kissed her, hard. 

“Fatin what the fuck?” She pushed the girl away from her. 

“I just wanted to kiss you okay?” 

“Why? You literally never pay any attention to me unless we’re fucking.” Leah’s eyes widened slightly. “Is this because you’re jealous? Because we’re just fuck buddies. You said it yourself.”

She shook her head, fuck why did she drink so much tonight. “Well, maybe I’m just in the mood to do that?”

“Then find someone else as you always fucking do Fa-”

She put her lips on the girl to shut her up, lifting her onto the sink. “Tonight I just want you okay?” She lightly bit the girl's lip and ground down on her leg needily because God she wanted literally anything to get out of her mind. 

“Fatin you don’t get to do that, we have rules.” 

She groaned. “For once can we please just say fuck the rules? I want you, Leah. Okay?” She left the other words unsaid. And only you. 

Lips were on her own, sweet lips that tasted like sugar rich drinks and so entirely Leah. She met them with her own, crushing against them like she was trying to prove something to the girl, her hand dropping beneath the girl's pants as they moved, both of them trying to gain any contact that would fulfill the craving need they shared. As the girl moaned her heart raced, skin damp with sweat, breath laced heavily with alcohol. Her fingers dug into the flesh of the girl's thighs, swollen lips retracing where the other girls had been. Mapping out her abdomen, retaking what she wanted. She knew every inch of her, where she wanted her, and how. So as her fingers pushed in she held her against her, determined to never let her go.

As Leah came, for the first time under hurried breaths, she moaned Fatin’s name. 

Fatin didn’t make a noise and certainly didn’t acknowledge the tear that ran down her cheek.

She wiped it and nipped at the girl's neck. 

“Come back to mine? Rachel’s out.”

They stumbled into the room, both grabbing at whatever was in reach of one another, pulling off clothing as they fell into bed and made out like they were kids in high school; too drunk to care about anything more. 

When Fatin woke she didn’t immediately recognize her surroundings, her brain slowly processing the lamp, the pile of books including that one tattered binding of- She was at Leah's. _Well, this is a first._

“If you want to freak out and leave you can do so now, I never saw you.” 

Leah was reading next to her, sat up in bed with a copy of an unfamiliar book. Though she would never admit it, it troubled her, she had read her annotations and Leah’s mind held far more than she would ever speak into reality. Her face solemn, she looked almost sad, ignoring Fatin entirely. She wondered what, if any, notes she would leave in that one, and if they would be laced with trouble and pain.

So she traced a finger along her arm, watching as those eyes closed and the book was set down. Placing a kiss on her neck she told herself this is just what friends do, and as she moved to cover her lips with her own she convinced herself this wasn’t strange at all. 

Standing up she grabbed her clothes. “Really Fatin? You do that and leave?” Leah was hurt, and she didn’t think it fair to hurt her anymore. Fatin would not be her father. 

“No, I’m grabbing coffee. Have a shower while I’m out your stomach is still sticky from the shots and as cute as you are it’s gross.” 

Leah hit her arm. She leaned forward to kiss her nose. _Jeez, what the fuck Fatin?_

Returning an hour later Leah’s eyes were reddened, her shirt damp at the collar. 

“Hey, are you okay?” She dropped the food on the bed and went to push the hair out of her eyes. 

“Fuck, yeah, I’m just being stupid. I thought you’d left. It’s been like an hour.”

“The line was incredibly shit today, a lot of hungover people there Lea.” Fatin did what she thought would help; she kissed her forehead, not paying attention to how intimate that would be. “I wouldn’t just ditch you, you know that right?”

Leah laughed. “That’s what you do, I’m used to it, I just got worked up because I thought this morning you meant it, with my past I, I just panic when people bolt.”

**_That’s just what you do._ **

The words hung in her vision like they were plastered to the wall, reminding her she had become exactly who she didn’t want to be. The sleeping around is fine; but hurting Leah, that was not. She was beginning to act like her fucking father, morphing into the man she hated most. Her skin crawled at the thought; images of her mother’s own red eyes and shaking, panicked body entering her mind. 

“I’m sorry, God I’m sorry Lea.” Taking a sip of coffee the girl wiped her eyes. She kissed her nose this time. “I’m staying, figured we could watch horrors today?”

“Fatin you don’t have to baby me. I’m a big girl I know what friends with benefits are.”

Playing with the covers Fatin knew if she flipped this wrong she would lose Leah in a fraction of a second, and fuck she did not want that. Yet, she had to accept that not wanting that, meant that she wanted her. But hell, Fatin didn’t want Leah. As her forehead creased, stomach twisted, she knew. She did not want Leah Rilke. Fatin needed her.

“I have basketball practice at five but I’m yours until then. Friends don’t get jealous of friends for being with other people, you’ve been cool with me sleeping with whoever then the moment you’re kissing some,”

“Oh no, we had sex before the kissing.”

“Oh.” 

“Just as we’re sleeping together we have to be open about this shit right?” 

Fatin curled her hand in the sheets thinking back to that girl, that stupid party.

“You okay there? Kinda giving me this cold don’t fuck with me face right now.” 

She stood and paced as if the steps would help her mind calm, yet with each step, she just grew more frustrated. 

“Fatin, you doing okay there?”

The voice snapped her out of her brain and she said the one thing she probably shouldn’t have. “No Leah, I’m not okay, I’m,” She sat on Rachel’s bed. “Fuck, I’m jealous.” 

Laughing sounded the room. “Very funny, look, Fatin you don’t have to be a dick about,”

She looked up, eyes watering. “Leah I’m being serious as shit right now.”

“Oh.”

“God I’m so fucked up. You’re totally cool with who I sleep with and one person heads you’re way and I’m a psycho frat boy? Like what the fuck?” 

“I never said I’m cool with it Fatin. I accepted it, it's you, I knew what I was getting into. But I never said I was cool with it. Fuck you think it makes me happy seeing you head into bathrooms or dorms with other people? No, it fucking sucks. Every person you drag away, and fuck one time I heard you moaning and shit. It fucks with my emotions, but I get it.”

“Why didn’t you say?” 

“Because that wasn’t our agreement.”

Pulling her shirt off Fatin laid on Rachel’s bed. 

“What are you doing?”

“My heart is just racing stupidly fucking fast right now and this room is boiling,”

“Fatin it’s cold as shit in here.” 

Leah lifted her, laying behind her and pulling her back to lay against her chest. “Just breathe okay?”

Breathing was stupidly hard when it was nine-hundred degrees and her heart was literally going to rip its way through her body, and god her chest and arms hurt, _fuck._ “I think I’m having a heart attack or some shit.” Fatin’s mind drifted to if this is how she would go, a random heart attack simply because she couldn’t cope with Leah fucking someone else. 

“That’s a panic attack, just think about anything but us right now. What makes you feel calm and happy? You know like one thing that grounds you?” 

“You.” 

Leah’s hands encased her own and she focussed on the tight embrace of the girl who rocked her slowly.

“You know I’m meant to be the weird anxiety freak out of us right?” 

She laughed at that, smelling the scent of coconut from the hair that fell over her chest. 

“Also, You play basketball?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” The girl's fingers played with her scalp, slowly rubbing circles that felt insane but she really hoped would not fuck up her hair, though it slowed the pace of her heart. 

“Wait you weren’t joking?”

“No, why would I joke about that?”

She sat up to see Leah, looking at her in a way she couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

“You’re just so like, femme?”

“Excuse me? Femme girls can rock a court too. I also play wicked cello.”

“Fuck off.”

She pushed Leah against the bed. “Don’t be a dick.”

“Nah, babe that’s actually kind of hot.”

“Babe?”


	7. Fancy-Ass Sushi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs that inspired this chapter:  
> Wherever You Will Go by The Calling

**Fatin POV**

  
“Did you just?” 

The girl’s face dropped and she swallowed shaking her head. “No, because that would make this weird.”

She could ignore it, pretend like the words never fell from the girl’s lips. Store it away in that tight compartment in her brain that was wedged open, now full of everything and anything Leah. But ignoring her emotions, and the emotions of the girl she liked would make her like the one man she never wished to walk in the path of, so she swallowed the negatives in her brain, pushing them aside as she wedged the Leah drawer wide open. 

“I think it got weird at least an hour ago.” 

“Fatin I didn’t mean it I,”

“Babe.” Fatin kissed her stilled lips. “I kinda like it.” 

Babe. Had anyone else have dared to call her that they wouldn’t have a throat left to speak with. Yet Leah? She wanted her to hear her say it on loop.

“Fatin don’t mess with me. I’m sorry okay.”

“Leah I don’t think you seem to grasp the fact I fucking like you. Whilst I have no clue what the fuck to do or say, I know I’m not happy with other people, and I’m sure as fuck not happy when you’re with other people, which isn’t fair at all because got that’s some messed up jealousy shit that I am not proud of,”

“You’re speaking really fast.”

“Go on a date with me?”

“What?” Leah’s face was unnerving, looking at Fatin like she’d just asked her to murder her neighbor.

“Please don’t make a huge deal with this, I honestly might throw up or leave my body or some kind of weird-ass shit Lea. Just go on a date with me. I don’t know, the cinema? Some couple shit.” 

“You want to go on a date… to the cinema?”

She sighed, _fuck was she making this hard_. “I don’t know what people do on dates Leah, I don’t do that shit. I would like to do that shit with you though.”

“But you still want to see other people?”

“Honestly I don’t know. I just, want to spend actual time with you. Yes, I may see other people while we’re dating but I think that’s normal right?”

Leah opened her mouth a few times as if she was going to say something then kept thinking better of it. She walked over and slumped down on her bed, Fatin curled her knees under her chin at the loss of contact. 

“Why me?”

“What?”

“Why the fuck do you want to date me Fatin? I’m a fucking mess.” 

“You’re a cute fucking mess. I’m a cute fucking mess. It works.”

She pulled at the hole in her shirt and seemed to rock slightly. “So you’re okay with me seeing other people?” 

“No, but I guess for now I have to be. Would be a kind of shit double standard and we’re only dating. It’s not like I can pull out the protective card yet.” 

“Okay.”

“What?”

“I said okay. Don’t make it weird Fatin it's just a fucking date.” 

She smiled. _It’s just a fucking date. You’ve got this._

But Fatin didn’t, the only thing she had was anxiety; and plenty of it. So there sat the prospect fresh with nausea in her gut because holy fuck she had to knock this out of the park. But then again; she wasn’t entirely sure if she could do this at all, and she certainly wasn’t sure where the fuck she would take the girl.

“Yeah, it's just a date.” She nodded, trying to convince herself more than the other girl of the words she spoke, because she knew, for her, it wasn’t just a date. It was her first date ever with someone she was already having sex with, not a first date where the intent was a quick shag at the end of the night then never seeing each other again. No, after this, she would have to see her again. 

“Fatin if you don’t pick an outfit I will genuinely shove one up your ass.”

“I’ve had weirder things up there.”

“You are so fucking gross. Just go with the fucking black dress, boots, or heels though, not flats, you want to scream fuck me because lord knows you aren’t getting laid enough.”

“I had sex with the coffee guy last night, God.” She had, she hadn’t enjoyed a single moment but the routine was hard to break, and right now, they were seeing other people. Though, she didn’t cast a single thought to Leah doing the same; the feeling deeply unsettling. 

She pulled the strap into place and looked in the mirror. “Does this scream top or bottom?”

“Fatin no outfit could ever dim your screaming top personality.”

“True. Remember when I topped you?”

“Oh, fuck don’t remind me. Right, I’m going. Use protection. Hydrate. I actually don’t know where the fuck you’re taking her because you won't tell me a fucking thing but enjoy yourself. Get out of your damn head it’s just a fucking date.”

“Says you. Miss, I don’t date Shalifoe.”

“Suck my dick.” And with that Toni was out the door, a small smile playing on her lips. She knew she was right. 

Leah put the California roll in her mouth, moaning slightly at the taste. 

She tried not to think about the heat that resided way down deep because they were only five minutes into this date and Fatin knew the bathrooms here weren’t discreet, so Fatin crossed her legs tight and tried to look anywhere but at Leah's mouth. She picked up her drink and sipped, trying to wet her ridiculously dry throat. Just a date. 

  
Leah sat opposite her wearing a cute crop top, weirdly cute; in fact, Fatin didn’t know when she had seen the girl in anything but jeans and a tee or pajamas. “You look really good by the way.” _Smooth Fatin, fucking smooth you dick._

“Yeah, sometimes I live on the edge and wear actual clothing.” 

She wasn’t sure if the girl had taken her compliment as an offense, it seemed to happen constantly with her, Fatin never sure what the fuck to say because everything she said came out wrong. But then Leah laughed, and she relaxed. 

“Are you gonna eat or just stare at my tits?” Leah pushed an egg roll into her mouth.

And yes. Fatin was staring at her boobs in her momentary zone out. _Shit_. She shot Leah a wink, played it off as intentional, and smiled, pushing her own food into her mouth. 

“This is kind of a fancy-ass place huh?”

“Is it?” It was. “Didn’t realize.” She did. She certainly didn’t google five hundred restaurant ratings, looking at their seating layouts and menus to figure where the fuck to take the girl. No Fatin would refuse to accept that she did that, as that fact would mean she really fucking cared. 

The girl simply laughed, looking at her with some sort of curiosity in her eye.

“Is this weird?”

“What?”

“We’ve been fucking for weeks Fatin. And now we're here doing what? Acting ‘normal’? Not that I’m complaining the food is fucking brilliant.”

“It’s weird.” She sipped on her drink. “But I think I’m enjoying it. You’re great company, Leah Rilke.”

“Not so bad yourself-”

“Fatin?” 

Her head whirled around, recognizing the British accent as her gut dropped. “Martin?”

“Hey! Long time no see.” Of course, she would run into him here. Her first hookup arriving in the state, great airport sex, then insane hotel sex slightly after.

“Uh, hi?” She forced a smile, trying not to do anything Leah would consider weird. “This is Leah.” 

“Nice to meet you.” He dragged his eyes over her and Fatin suddenly felt like her dress was far too fucking tight, the material of it suffocating her. 

Leah definitely saw it, looking between the pair and rolling her eyes, a subtle ‘of fucking course’ hidden partially under her breath before she smiled. 

“Friend of Fatin’s?”

He laughed, and she curled inwards. She knew. Of course, she fucking knew. 

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” He moved his eyes back, now openly checking Fatin out and she bit her tongue; hard. “Did you want to go out later? I’m heading to the club with the boys? The night would be far better with… you.” 

She started on in silence. 

“I uh-” This was not the time to stammer, yet the words twisted in Fatin’s head at the pained look on the girl's face across from her.

Silence, until Leah’s voice, filled the air. “I’m sure she’d love to.” 

_Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit._

“Awesome.” The guy winked at her, clearly not being able to sense tension even if it shafted him in the gut.

And then Leah was getting up, walking out of the restaurant. 

“I’m actually busy tonight, have a good time though?” 

She paid and followed down the street. Fatin thought she had it planned to perfection, every minute of today... Yet in under an hour everything she had spent days putting into place had gone up in flames. Fatin was the reason for Leah’s pain, and whilst she wasn’t ashamed of her past, she knew maybe Leah slightly was. Whether it was shame, jealousy, or embarrassment she didn’t know, all that was known was hell had she fucked up here. 

Dear God, she should have not worn heels today, trying to speed walk was killing her feet with every stride, the pain sharp up her shin. Then again perhaps a bit of pain was deserved. Eventually stopping at a book store with a broken sign that read ‘Sadie’s’, she stared through the window watching blue eyes roamed the titles within, glassy and distant. 

“Leah?”

Her hand stilled on the book, recoiling at her voice.

“What Fatin, don’t you have a club to go to with your model ‘friend’?”

“He’s actually an accountant.” Another flinch. Wrong answer. “Look just, let me do this over, please?” The girl's arms were crossed tightly against herself; a stance she knew all too well. That subtle change of posture each time she was closing up, growing distant on her. “Please Leah?”

She placed a hand gently on the girls, fingers pulling slightly. 

“Fine.” 

“Fatin where the fuck are we going?” Hands pulled her into the room and she stilled. “Why the hell are we in a concert hall?”

“It’s actually just an old practice hall, nobody ever plays here anymore.” 

“We shouldn’t be here? What if they find us?”

“I know the guy who owns it, it’s fine.” 

“Why do you know a guy who owns a music hall?” Leah paced across the small stage. “Oh god, you fucked him didn’t you?” 

“No! I didn’t have sex with him.” Fatin rolled her eyes. “Just sit?” Her finger pointed at the small audience seating. 

“Why do I feel totally like this is how I get murdered?” She deadpanned.

Fatin brought her lips to Leah’s, biting the bottom gently before pushing her away. “Sit.”

“Yes, Mam.” 

“Don’t you dare.” Though the comment pissed her off- _fucking Mam, who was she? Her mother?_ \- the corner of her mouth pulled up just slightly, weak to the force that was Leah. 

As she sat she crossed her legs observing. “So are you going to tell me why the fuck I’m here?”

“You like ACDC right?” Fatin moved behind the cello, ignoring the fact she never played for anyone anymore, and she certainly didn’t play for anyone she liked. On top of that blue eyes bore into her; confused, and the whole thing just felt way too fucking intimate. 

“Yeah, why?”

“This piece is actually a paired piece so may sound kind of off but,” Her hands picked up the bow out of the case as she settled the instrument into her. 

She played. Fingers plucking at the strings as she did her best not to look into those eyes in the audience. The music filled the small hall, echoing from the walls as the rock music met a slightly different tone, edgy but romanticized by the strings of the cello. Marcus' cello wasn't her own, but that one resided in a house that was harder than Fort Knox to break into.

Her chest felt heavy as she played. The piece was different, she was normally made to recite and play classics, but this? This piece was so entirely Leah. Though she would never tell her she started playing rock when she met her, that her hands calloused after hours of playing 90’s grunge and indie anthems. Yes, she knew all too well it had all started because of her. The music just a small way in which she tried to get her out of her mind; instead instilling Leah in every possible recess. 

Her fingers slowed, the piece finished and she looked up. Leah was no longer in the seats but directly in front of her, taking her face into her palms and running fingers deep into her hair. 

“That was insanely fucking hot.”

She pulled away to be met with glassy dark eyes, wet with something she couldn’t place. So she pulled her face back to her, putting the gear to the side so she could sit her on her lap, her hand running up the shirt of Leah’s crop top. 

“We can't do this here.” She pulled away. “Marcus, he’d kill me if he thought I was ruining his space.” 

“Marcus?”

“Yes, my very gay friend Marcus who I play with. We sometimes do mini-concerts for friends as an excuse to drink. Classical normally, maybe jazz.”

“Since when?” 

Fatin laughed, pulling Leah into her embrace as she walked. “I was quite the child prodigy, pushy parents. First-generation born to parents who immigrated, there was a lot of pressure. Be something unique and talented. That’s what they wished anyhow but I threw it all away.” She had thrown it all away; not wanting the pressure, the weight that sat on her constantly leaving her unable to breathe. Pushy parents can be a horrible thing. Yes, many just want you to thrive but Fatin’s parents wanted her to be the best of the best, bit by bit removing her social life until she was fifteen and skipping prom to go to practice recitals. 

“I wouldn’t say you threw it all away, that was kind of beautiful, what you played. You’re talented.”

“Oh I know,” She smiled; cocky. Fatin knew she was great. “But they wanted that to be my life. I was meant to go to Julliard and instead I’m throwing balls around in LA. Not exactly the shining daughter they wanted.”

“I’m sure they’re still proud.”

“I wouldn’t know. They haven’t talked to me since I decided to come here.”

“Fatin?”

She wiped a tear pretending it never fell. “It’s fine I don’t care. My fathers a cheating dick anyhow and my mother, well, my mother just doesn’t like me.” 

Lacing her hands through Leah’s they made their way back to the school. Leah knew not to pry, giving her the same space for her thoughts that she allowed for the girls.

Those thoughts they would tackle another time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Find me on tumblr gay-art-vibes . Have a great day folk!


	8. Religious Expirience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs that inspired this chapter:  
> 2 by H.E.R
> 
> This chapter is rated E folk.

**Fatin POV**

Leah pushed her head up against the door a little harder than she was expecting, her head hitting the wood with a heavy thud. “Fuck.”

“Do you know how much I wanted to rip your clothes off while you were playing?”

Fatin swallowed. This was a side to the girl she hadn’t really seen, Leah’s eyes were blown, her hands heavy in their touch, teeth deep when they pushed into her lip. It was a side of her Fatin now craved, the intimacy of it magnetic in every swipe of her lip, paining her chest with her rapid heart. She spun them around and Leah laughed, her breath warm against her neck. 

“You’re so fucking persistent with topping people, God.” 

And with that, her legs were in the air and Fatin squealed as she lifted her to the bed. 

_Fuck, how is she this strong?_

“Leah,” 

“Stop complaining.” 

Hands were hiking up her dress and her mind blanked, fingers deep in the flesh of her thighs, tapering away her thoughts. She barely registered the underwear that fell down her legs next, but then Leah was straddling her, kissing every inch of exposed skin around the dress, along her collarbone and down her thighs and fuck. Fatin was pretty sure this was the most religious experience of her life, even with decades of her mother dragging her ass to prayer. The straps of her dress were tugged down her arms, her bra’s clasp quickly undoing in Leah’s fingers before falling to the floor. The brunette hovered above her, teeth deep in her lip as she blatantly stared at Fatin’s chest (not that she was complaining.)

“I can take the dress off.” The words seemed to wake Leah from her momentary trance.

“Leave it on.” 

She didn’t bother arguing with the dark eyes, simply swallowing her words in reply. Fatin wasn’t sure how three words could make her feel like this, but every second more with the girl was turning rapidly from wanting to needing. She bit her tongue, holding back anything too much; she would never fucking beg. Her eyes rolled back as she tried her best not to think about the ache that filled her, thighs trying to wrap around the girl at any opportunity. 

Fingers traced her and she groaned at the slight contact.

“Fuck you’re wet.” 

“Sushi.” She tried to lift her hips, needing any contact with Leah that they could find.

“What?” The brunette momentarily stilled above her. 

“You moan when you eat sushi.” 

Leah shook her head, the heat of her laughter hitting her right between the legs before fingers sunk in, hard and heavy. It was kind of odd, gone were the soft touches and shy glances, and now Leah was topping her as she had in the bathroom when they first met and for some reason, she had never enjoyed sex more.

As she kissed up her body she let out a heavy moan. Fatin had quite the mouth on her in bed but this was something else, she’s pretty sure she saw the hint of a blush on Leah when she lifted her head. 

“You okay there?” 

“Leah,” Fatin couldn’t remember when she had actually whined at someone, the need lacing every part of the girl's name. Her head whipped up, vaguely shocked by just how desperate the girl was making her sound, eyes wide as she took in Leah’s very straight, stoic face.

“What?” Fingers pulled into her mouth and she sucked on them, closing her eyes. Fatin was entirely sure she wanted to torture her at this point, genuinely feeling pain.

“Leah,” It was barely audible this time, what the fuck was going on with her voice?

“Say it.” The girl's face still remained neutral as if she wasn’t just tasting her on her fingers. 

“Say what?” 

“What you want.” Leah trailed fingertips up the inside of her thighs, stilling when they got closer to where she wanted them. 

Of course, she’s fucking messing with me now. 

“Leah, can you fuck me?” Fatin huffed as she dropped her head back, crossing her own legs for just any comfort. 

“Say please.” 

Fatin lifted her head, mouth ajar as she took in the girl's smug smile. 

“No, just move your damn hand.” 

“Nope, please. I want to hear it.” 

“Why are you topping me right now?” Fatin was kind of angry, this wasn’t her. She didn’t do this. She topped everyone. She was a fucking top, a fucking queen of the tops; call her Princess Lay-her.

“Because you make a cute bottom.” 

Then lips were on her own, Leah’s tongue tracing her own allowing her to taste herself. 

_Fuck she knows what she is doing._

“Please.” 

“What was that?”

“Lea!” 

The girl moved down her body, hands playing with her chest. 

“Please. God please just move your hands back. Please-”

Fingers returned and she felt euphoric. Though she had always enjoyed sex this was something else, her chest still heavy with whatever the fuck needy shit was doing to her, lips tugging at her own, fingers gripping hard into hair as her body shuddered and she rode out the wave. 

“Holy fuck.” 

Leah went to pull away but she clasped her fingers around her wrist, not wanting to lose the closeness between them. “Keep going.” 

Her body shuddered under sensitivity as the brunette kept her pace, softer but just as fast, holding Fatin tightly against her as she came a second time, this time pulling away from the girl after. 

“Shit, are you okay?” 

Leah pushed the hair out of her eyes and she just stared on in wonder, confused as to why the hell she’d have to ask that. 

“Of course.” Fatin pulled her in for another kiss.

“Are you sure it wasn’t like too rough? You’re crying.” 

As she raised a hand to her cheeks she felt the dampness of tears that streaked them. _That was new. Jadmani’s didn’t cry._ Fatin never fucking cried but Leah was slowly undoing everything that made her safe. Secure. 

“Oh.” She wiped her face and sat up. “It was just really good sex is all. The second time hit hard.” She pulled the girl's lip in between her own to let her know she meant it, pushing her over on the bed. Holding on tight to the words that ran through her mind like a train with a death wish. I love you. 

“I think it’s your turn to be a bottom, Rilke.” 

  
“Was that Leah again?” Toni chucked a ball in the air as she entered the room, letting it spin on her finger. 

“Yeah.” Fatin pulled her basketball clothes, moving to lace up her trainers. 

“And?”

“And okay, yes maybe I like her.” 

“How many times?” 

“What?” 

“How many times have you slept together? Didn’t you have a one day rule or something?” Toni raised a brow, clearly calculating how far she could push this. 

“I just like her okay? Do we have to make a big deal out of this? We’re sleeping together, we went on a date, we are dating.”

“Still seeing other people?”

Fatin pulled the laces tight and winced. “Yes.”

“But you don’t want to?” 

She laughed. “If you mean would I be hurt if she was fucking someone then yes Toni, I would.” 

“But you still want to sleep with other people?”

Pulling her bag onto her shoulder she headed out the door with Toni in trail. 

“No. Yes. I don’t know, okay.” No, she didn’t. She didn’t want anyone touching Leah the way she had, and for the first time, she didn’t even want anyone touching her. But she couldn’t tell anyone that, not yet because that would mean Fatin wanted her. Wanted her more than anything she ever had and then she would be open to losing her, just like everything and everyone else.

“Well, maybe you need to think about that then because I’ve never seen you smile like such a fucking love struck dick in my life.”

“Shut it whore.” She beamed at her, slapping her ass for good measure. “How’s things with Shelby by the way? You two fuck yet?” 

Toni spat out her coffee, systematically chocking on the liquid as it continued to trickle down the wrong way. “Shelby is a straight, homophobe Fatin. Why the hell would we fuck?” 

She laughed as the girl gagged. God was she deluded, and Fatin was the one hiding from her feelings? _Sure Jan._

“Give it time.”

A ball hit her in the jaw. 

  
Placing the coffee on the desk, she looked up and her chest ceased at those blue eyes. Though she would never admit it; Fatin as a teen had been addicted to the television show Smallville, and she was pretty sure she knew what Clark Kent meant by kryptonite as she stared at the girls face.

“I thought we said no coffee.” 

Leah pulled the coffee to her mouth, sighing at the taste. Fatin knew it was small, that one coffee wouldn’t change her day all that much and her thoughts would always be there and heavy, but still she wanted that smile even if for only a second. 

“Yeah but we’re dating now. So isn’t it like… Allowed?”

The girl's hand drummed on the desk, Fatin’s covering it automatically to still the angst, rubbing circles in her palm with her thumb. Leah’s gaze focussed on it momentarily, her teeth worrying her lip as if she was deep in thought about it before she replaced the worry with a smile. 

“I uh, I have a poetry reading tomorrow, if you want to come? It’s at a coffee shop doing an exhibit read for up-and-coming writers and I got picked, not like it’s a huge deal but it would be nice to know someone in the audience. We could get coffee there after? I’m just kind of freaking out about it and it would be nice to know I’m not alone in the wild you know?” 

Leah was rambling and she couldn’t find it in herself to stop the overflow of words, too busy enjoying how endearing the whole thing was. “I thought you said no coffee?” Leah’s face dropped and okay; this apparently was not the time for jokes. “Of course I will be there. I wouldn’t miss it for the world. That’s pretty huge though, that you got picked to speak.” 

She swallowed and played with the binding on her book. “Um yeah, only two of us are college students, so I got lucky.” 

“You didn’t get lucky, you’re talented.”

“How would you know that?” Leah laughed lightly. “You’ve never seen my work.”

“I don’t have to, to know you, Lea. You’re special.”

  
Fatin played with her coat as she looked in the mirror; she looked dapper as hell and she wasn’t going to deny the fact. A white formal shirt sat tucked into black jeans, meeting brown Chelsea boots. Her grey pea coat hung from her shoulders in a way that screamed CEO and she was hoping it would at least let Leah know she took her work seriously. _Then again, was this overdressed?_

Her feet paced calmed until a knock sounded on the door.

“Leah, I thought we were meeting at the coffee-”

She stilled, frozen on the spot as she took in the woman’s form in front of her. Elegant as ever, though a slightly darker shade of lipstick was spread across her lips than usual- perhaps she was mourning the loss of her daughter's cello career- her eyes just as cutting as they had been the night she left. 

Swallowing thickly her hand curled around the edge of the door, knuckles paling. 

“Mom?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah that happened. You can find me on Tumblr gay-art-vibes. Come harass me with your angst over that cliffhanger in the comments. Stay awesome guys.


	9. When All Things Spin Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW: Depression mentions, parental conflict.
> 
> Songs that inspired this chapter:  
> Fall To Pieces by Pale Waves

**Fatin POV**

  
“You could at least find it in you to invite your mother in dear.” Her face was hard as ever, pretending that their history never happened, never making it to her cheeks to form worry lines or cause her pain.

“I’m actually heading out.” 

The woman crossed her arms. “You will make time for me Fatin. Have some respect.” 

“Fine. Would you like to come in?”

Her mother scoffed, barging past her into her room. 

“I thought you didn’t get a full-ride scholarship?” She eyed the room. “Do you have a job? Surely that’s a distraction from whatever education you’re here for?”

“I sold the watch.” She raised her wrist to show the seventy grand watch her father purchased her had been auctioned (as had the others, not that she’d admit that.)

“You sold the watch?” A bitter laugh filled the room. “You know how much your father worked for that, right?”

“Do you mean how much you worked?”

“Don’t be cocky Fatin it doesn’t suit you. He poured his love into those watches for you. Hours on auctions, biding time, and waiting. Just for you.”

“And then he fucked half the state.”

“Language.” Her mother chided, but for once, emotion overcame her eyes, creasing at the edges as a reminder of the night Fatin had held her together. 

“How can you be with him?”

“Sometimes Fatin, we have to do things others simply shall not understand. Though you don’t understand now with time you will. You’re much like your father you know.”

Fatin stood, enraged with fists curled tightly at her sides. “How dare you say that, I am nothing like that man.” 

“You party, you run, you seek your freedom in every aspect of your life Fatin. I know you. Do you think I wouldn’t see you with boys in those cars? Late nights strolling in at three in the morning?”

“I needed freedom. You pushed me until cello was my life, I had nothing apart from that stupid instrument. Hours upon hours of recitals, sheet reading, burning fingers. I was broken and you were so busy trying to perfect what you wanted me to be you didn’t even notice.”

“I noticed child. But perfection takes hours, and you had talent. A gift that you threw to the damn wind. We should have sent you away to that boarding school, taught you some respect.” 

“I still play. For myself, what I like and when I want. Do you know what it’s like to hate your own gift? I mean to truly despise it? So many times I wanted to burn that fucking cello because you left no room for me. I had not fucking identity Mom, I was just the cello player. And it’s not talent when you do nothing but that over and over again. That’s simply mastering repetition.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me that?”

“Fuck I did. Every day, every freaking day I told you I couldn’t, and every day you booked yet more shit behind my back. I never had a single day off. It was 'go to school Fatin, play cello Fatin'. That was my entire fricken life.”

“And now you do what?”

“I’m a business major, and I play for the basketball team.”

Her mother almost shuddered before her eyes. 

“Basketball.” She rolled her eyes. “Business I can deal with; Jadmani’s make excellent realtors and business owners. But basketball? It’s so unladylike Fatin. It’s not you.”

“How would you know what the hell is not me? You show up here out of the blue without a single damn text; not even a simple ‘hi how are you?’ Then you stroll up here acting like nothing happened wanting me to let you in when I’m supposed to be on a fucking date with my girlf-”

“Your what?”

Fatin groaned. “Fuck I need to go.” 

“No Fatin what?”

“I’m meant to be on a date. With the girl I am dating; Leah. I’m meant to be watching her do a poetry speech and yet you waltz the hell in here and-”

“Oh God, she’s a poet? I’m all for the arts Fatin but poetry? Does the girl wish to make a living or starve?”

“Are you kidding? You do not get to walk in here and judge the girl I’m dating who you’ve never even met, Mom. You’re out there with the man who's fucking the neighborhood but you want to judge my relationship? Are you kidding me right now? What the actual hell? And just so you know, Leah is fucking lovely. She’s beautiful, she’s talented and for some unknown reason, she actually likes me. I would do anything for that girl. You don’t get to sit there and judge someone you don’t even know when you’re hardly the poster mother for a stellar fucking relationship.”

“You love her.” 

“Yes, I fucking love her.” Fatin stilled, feeling the hot tears pricking at her eyes as she stared down at her mother with rage. _Fuck, she loved her._ “I’m done with this conversation. I have to go meet Leah.”

Fatin pulled down her mirror, trying furiously to fix her make-up for twenty fucking minutes, scrubbing at the mascara that streaked her face, holding down the bile that rose in her throat before she realized how late she had been. The minutes lost to rage and her mother. Shit, she had fucked up. 

**8:10 I’ll be there soon. Sorry.**

Running a shaky hand through her hair she gripped the steering wheel, bashing her head against the leather. _Shit._

Of course, the traffic sucked balls. Fatin sat in a pile of cars from an accident waiting for the police to shepherd them all around. By the time she got to the coffee shop, she wrenched the handle open to lights being turned off by a tall guy. “Shit, is Leah here?”

“Who?”

“Leah, blue eyes, brown hair doing a poetry read?”

“Oh, Rilke. That finished twenty minutes ago. I think she had like a shit tonne of shots at the bar next door and left with Dan.” 

“Who the fuck is Dan?”

“A guy that actually showed up to the poetry read that you skipped out on.”

“Fuck you.” 

  
Making her way to Leah’s dorm she sent her another six texts.

**9:10 Where are you? At the coffee house, you’re not here.**

**9:30 Back on campus checking to see if you’re in?**  
  
**9:35 Lea?**

**9:40 Fuck I’m sorry, I’ll explain I just need to talk to you.**

_Fuck._

  
Fatin ran through the corridors, heart in her throat as she took long strides ready to knock on Leah’s door. 

“Leah?” Her hand bashed against the door, far harder than required. 

“Hi?” A guy answered the door in his boxers and she eyed him head to toe.

“Who the fuck are you?”

“Dan.” 

He pulled the door open and Leah sat on the bed, barely covered by the blanket. 

Fatin’s mind span, remembering every touch, kiss, and laugh they shared. Every night forgetting to turn Netflix off and waking up to the ‘are you still watching?’ screen. She felt every part of her numb, except her chest which burned with pain far worse than she’d ever felt.

“Fuck you.” She held Leah’s gaze as she spat the words, even though her words were meant for Dan. Then again, perhaps that was something Fatin told herself to make her feel better about the empty blue eyes that stayed in her mind the entire walk home. 

_Fuck you._

  
She missed three days of classes, maintaining she was sick when Fatin hadn’t had a day off sick in years. However, her professors didn’t know that. 

Fatin refused to leave, staying under her cover as she watched Netflix reruns of anything but horrors, not daring to watch a single thing that would remind herself of her. Nora brought her food, placing take-out bags on her desk that just seemed to mount up until Nora swept them away, placing a kiss to her forehead before telling her light-heartedly to get it the fuck together.

On the fourth day, Toni showed up, jumping into her bed. “Get the fuck up Fatin. You can’t miss another practice.”

“Leave me alone Shalifoe.”

“What the fuck happened to you?” 

“Nothing.”

Toni stared down at her, pulling the covers from her grip. “Get up, we’re getting you coffee then we’re playing some ball.”

“Toni I’m not,”

“I don’t know what happened with you and Leah but you need to move the hell past it, or at least attend the college you are paying shit tonnes of money for.” 

Toni’s fingers tightened around her wrist before pulling her up and pushing her into the shower.

“You stink Jadmani, jeez.”

She probably did, she hadn’t showered in days. She hadn’t really done much of anything, except for impulsively buying herself the same copy of Leah’s book, fingers tracing words like she missed the annotations that had haunted her every day. And now, reading the words to herself she could finally see why Leah cherished Emily Dickenson’s poetry so much. Now that Fatin’s stomach heaved as she threw up from nausea that wasn’t like any other, now that her chest contracted and convulsed at every thought of the girl, now that she knew just how shit it felt to love and to lose. Now, she appreciated that poetry so much more. Because now, _she understood_. 

  
So she let Toni pull her along, let her feet carry herself to lectures, and went about her routine as if nothing had changed; even though she did so with a pain that pulled at every inch of her being at every waking moment. 

Days turned into weeks as the life continued to drain from her. She acted fine around her friends not for one second letting on to the fact she was just a little broken. Maintaining her smile as she did her straight face during old recitals, pretending her fingers weren’t screaming for weeks of day-on-day rehearsals. She ate less, food losing its taste. She drank more and more, alcohol not even strong enough to dim that numbing feeling, and she cried. Holy shit did she cry. Fatin felt trapped within her mind with no possible way out alone.

Then, she did something she never thought she would. She signed up for therapy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter shall be much less heavy. Having an awesome time writing this at 2 am when I'm not binging other fics. Hope you're all well, hit me up with anything you'd like to see in future chapters. As always tumblr @ gay-art-vibes


	10. Like She Hung The Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Songs that inspired this chapter:  
> Girl by Donna Missal
> 
> TW: Brief E rated content (ish), mentions of mental health struggles.

**Fatin POV**

As tears streamed down her face she reached for yet another tissue, not sure what this emotional fuckery was. Her therapist honestly didn’t look much older than her which was deceiving as shit because she spoke like a fifty-year-old man, peaking into every aspect of her soul like fucking Freud.

“And did you speak to her after to let her know how this made you feel, to explain what happened?”

“No.”

“And why was that?”

 _Why was that? Let’s see._ The one girl she’d ever let in- loved and cared for- had fucked a guy on the one night where Fatin was a little too emotional and as a result she had told her ‘Fuck you.’ So no, no she hadn’t fucking spoken to her. 

“Because she fucked some guy, I lost it and said fuck you but it was harsh and her eyes, she just looked like she didn’t know who I was anymore. She didn’t need any more fucking pain in her life, then I arrived with a truckload of it.”

“But did you think maybe Leah didn’t see it as pain? That maybe she herself runs too to cope. And that perhaps if you explain your mother's arrival she might understand and let you back in?”

“I don’t want her to let me back in.”

“Why is that?”

_Why is fucking that? Jeez she was repetitive._

“Because I hurt people.”

“It seems to me like the hurt was not your fault, and all you can do now is to have an open conversation and explain that. We all make mistakes, have pasts and pain but it’s how we communicate them that can really help. I’m not saying you must talk to her by any means, you know what’s best for you. But what I am saying is put yourself first, Leah is an adult; don’t treat her as broken. Perhaps you don’t work together but maybe you do, you’re not your father Fatin. You can have healthy relationships but it’s key to communicate; even when it’s tough.

Fatin sat with the weight of those words on her shoulders for another week.

Knocking on the door she was met with the stern face of Rachel. 

“She’s not in Fatin.” 

“I can wait.”

Rachel steeled her jaw. “Do you know how much you hurt her? She’s barely fucking eaten in weeks, she cries all the damn time or stares off into space for hours on end catatonic. I’m actually worried for her.” 

Fatin swallowed, she had caused this, all of this. But if she didn’t speak to her nothing in Leah’s world would change. At least if she apologized she would know-

“I’ll wait.” 

“You can wait outside. I’m heading out with the girls. Just, don’t fucking hurt her more. I will find you, and I genuinely will hurt you.” Rachel narrowed her eyes and she wasn’t sure she had ever been this shit scared of anyone- even her mother- before.

After an hour of waiting Fatin had just given in, sitting on the sticky hallway floor. _This was definitely a low point for her._

When Leah finally came up the hall, eyes landed on hers, body stalling and jaw tensing as she seemed to weigh up how she could possibly avoid this situation. Eventually, she seemed to give up and paced closer, Fatin scrambling to stand, unsure why she wanted to throw up before she’d even said a word. 

“Can you move? I need to get in.”

“Leah.”

“Fatin, do you know what? Just don’t. Leave me the fuck alone.” 

Placing a hand on the door to stop it from shutting she took a deep breath in. “I can’t go anywhere because my therapist said I need to talk to you. Now you can choose whether or not to let me, but I just would like five minutes to explain, to apologize Lea, please.”

“You have a therapist?” Leah’s tone was balanced somewhere between confusion, shock, and disbelief.

 _That was what she took away from all of this?_ “Yes, and apparently I’m shit and communicating and need to work on it so here I am. Now could I please have five minutes?” 

Leah opened the door and the room was far different to when Fatin had been here last. Clothing littered the floor, coffee cups lined every surface. It looked like her room minus her magic cleaning fairy Nora who appeared every three days to fix her shit hole.

She sat on Rachel’s bed and played with her fingers. 

“You know what you did was super fucking shitty right? You missed the one thing I asked you to come to, I fucked up half the lines because I was so fucking in my head about where you were, who you were with, if you were fucking. You didn’t bother to fucking text before like any normal fucking person, a simple ‘ I can’t make it’ would have fucking done. And then I get drunk and sleep with someone, which I was allowed to do because you said it yourself, we can still fuck other people, then you come here and tell me ‘fuck you’ like I don’t mean shit to you and,”

“I was with my Mom. That night. So most definitely no fucking or I’d request you call the police.”

“What?”

“My Mom. She decided to show up out of the blue just as I was leaving. I haven’t spoken to her since I left. Then she showed up, told me I was throwing my life away, that I’m just like my dad then shitting on what I had with you. Which was a bitch move, like my dad is still cheating on her with half the fucking country and she’s fixated on what my life is like with you and how you’re not right for me like fucking hell.”

“Your Mom showed up?”

“And I would have text but I was so in my head that I didn’t even notice the fucking clock, then she started talking shit about our relationship and I just lost it,”

Leah’s eyes were glazed with water that pooled and fell in heavy droplets across her cheek. 

“I’m so sorry Leah. And then I got to the coffee shop and the guy there said you were with that guy and,” Fatin was breathing rapidly, trying her best to contain all the emotion that sat in her for weeks, but then she was crying too, more so than Leah, hands shaking in her lap. “So I tried to find you and figured you went home alone and when Dan opened the door I just fucking lost it. I didn't want you sleeping with other people, and I could have handled it because I said it was cool but then you were fucking him and my mother's words were still fucking with my head, not that that’s an excuse but I just lost it,”

Arms wrapped around her and she realized her whole body was shaking now, cheeks black with mascara, eyes a deep red. “Fatin you need to slow your breathing down okay?”

And eventually, she did, with Leah counting in her ear as she gently rocked them, the girl's own tears damp on the back of her shirt. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have just assumed, but it’s you Fatin. When you didn’t show I just thought you were off-”

“Sleeping with someone?” She coughed as the air burned at her lungs. “Leah I stopped sleeping with other people ages ago.” 

The girl's body tensed around her. “But you said while dating we were-”

“I wanted to sound chilled out about it. And okay maybe at first I convinced myself I needed other people while I date you but I don’t. I didn’t want anyone touching me but you Leah. I’m like the world's shittest playboy right now.” 

“Why do you have a therapist?”

Fatin played with Leah’s hands, avoiding everything yet again. Communicate. “I stopped eating, sleeping, going to class. It just really fucked me up, like what I said to you. The last thing I wanted was to bring you more pain, I don’t know everything about your past but I know you, and I know you didn’t need me. You need someone who's not fucked up.”

“You’re not fucked up. I’m fucked up. I should have fucking text you like a normal person, given you time to explain but I just got trashed and fucked someone. That’s what’s fucked up Fatin.”

“It’s not, we had an agreement,”

“Fatin I should have been there for you, with your Mom, and I don’t know how it went but I’m guessing shit, and hell I just went and jumped a guy instead of letting you explain and vent.”  
Fatin turned, pulling her mouth toward her own, their tears laying salty between their lips as she let out a content hum. 

“Can we still have this? I miss you, Leah, I get if you don’t want it but I just need to try.”

Leah began picking clothing up and folding it, ignoring her. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m clearing my gross ass bed so you can sleep over because I haven’t slept in weeks and would like a decent night of sleep.” Chucking the clothes on the floor she smiled. “I’m gonna hop in the shower first, I don’t know if you want to join me your mascara is all kinds of fucked up right now.” 

For the first time in weeks, nausea faded, lulling itself to sleep at Leah’s touch.

Hands roamed the expanse of flesh on Leah’s abdomen as she watched on, too content to even feel fear as they watched Hush on the television, the girl being chased by a serial killer as she pulled Leah in close, smelling the shampoo she missed far too much. 

“You’re squishing me, babe.”

Leah’s hand clenched at her thigh, she wasn’t the only one being squished. “Would it be weird if I just said I don’t want you to leave? And I’m worried that I’ll wake up and you won't be here? I just, I can’t lose you again.”

Turning in her grasp Leah pulled her hands up the girl's thigh, settling it between her legs. “I’m not leaving you. I’m right here. We both have the day off, we can order in food.” 

Fatin wished she believed that, but she stared on with heavy eyes knowing everyone always did.

Her hand raised and the circles Fatin missed so much fell from Leah’s hand against her for the first time in weeks, her legs automatically tensing at the touch, stomach filling with heat. A kiss to her forehead. “I.” A kiss to her nose. “Will.” One on her cheek. “Never.” Her chin. “Leave.” Lips met her own, softness quickly turning heavy as her hand sped its pace and Fatin ground against her. “You.” She mumbled, the words vibrating against Fatin’s lips as fingers sunk into her with more love than she felt she could take. 

She cried at least five times that night. With laughter, with fear, as she came, as Leah came. But each time the brunette looked at her like she was everything like she hung the stars, which made the tears fall faster than Leah could wipe them away. 

They didn’t talk about if they were girlfriends or dare mention love. Not yet. But they both knew no one else was now in the equation. And no one would be. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel this chapter was a *little* lighter? I got TikTok and I have no idea what's going on, on there? Anyhow come find me on tumblr gay-art-vibes . Stay rad and hydrate folks.


End file.
